


Dû

by Fletcher_Of_Mirkwood



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gigolas is background for now, Gondor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Post-War of the Ring, Servants, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fletcher_Of_Mirkwood/pseuds/Fletcher_Of_Mirkwood
Summary: "Nightfall;" Tinniel takes the night-shift in the palace kitchens of Gondor--taking stock and buying food the next morning. You never know who might show up for a midnight cup of tea. Hobbits, perhaps? Or the Queen herself?Post War of the Ring





	1. The Coronation Banquet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> This is my forst LOTR fic and I hope you enjoy. Please leave comments or suggestions or questions for me. I love to read them. :)  
> As far as updating goes, I will try very hard for twice a month, but school takes up time.   
> ~Lily
> 
>  _For your reference:_  
>  In Gondor tharni was used for a silver coin, the fourth part of the castar, a gold coin.
> 
> There are seven levels of Minas Tirith. The 7th is the palace, 6th the Houses of Healing, and for my purposes 1st is the market.
> 
> May 1st 3019 Third Age: Aragorn is crowned

"More soup! We are to serve in an hour!" I heard Cook holler again. 

I rushed back inside from the well with the water for more soup. Loaves of bread were stacked up in the cupboard, freashly baked early this morning. The kitchens were packed with people. I had to fight my way back to my cooking fire. Tuluben, my current roomate, continued to chop vegetables while I put the water to heat. 

"Where are the eggs? How fair the roasts?" Cook continued yelling as she inspected the food. I set about chopping with Tuluben. 

"If she would only stop yelling, I might have time to cook!" Tuluben whispered. 

I laughed. "One would think she knows how to run a kitchen!" We continued our dialogue of Cook, criticizing her every order and remark. Eventually, we ran out of fuel and gave out attention solely to the cooking. 

"Do you know who is to be serving the King's table?" I asked Tuluben. She always seemed to know what was going on, even though after a year as her roommate I still didn't know all her sources. "I should like to speak to them after!" 

"Borel, for one. I am certain she will regail her tales of tonight for all to hear on the morn," Tuluben said in haughty voice, imitating Borel's storytelling. "Others, I am not so sure. Perhaps Ferian and Linnel as well." 

I rolled my eyes. "As fanciful as Borel can be, some truth will still lie in her words. I should love to hear her speak." 

We finished our vegetables and Tuluben went off to procure the right spices. I wiped my hands on my apron and waited for her. A small feast indeed! The city was still on war time rationing, so the new King had ordered a smaller affair than tradition. 

"Tinniel!" A voice behind me barked. "Why are your hands idle?!" 

I almost yelped. "Just cleaning up Cook!" She grumbled something about hurrying up and moved on to her next victem. 

Another hour passed with much stirring and chopping and yelling. Soon Tuluben and many others were off to begin serving the soup and other appetizers. I stayed behind with the dish crew. Normally, I worked the night into early morning shift, where I took inventory of the cupboards, balanced the books, then recorded the next morning's purchases. However, on large occasions, usually a feast, I helped out in the kitchens in any way possible. Even though I longed to see the gowns the ladies wore and ogle at the lords, I was not trained as a serving girl. Going out out to the banquet hall was impossible. 

The evening dragged on. Supper was soon served, and the servers were rushing in and out, bringing dirty plates in and full ones out. Tuluben managed to tell a quick story to me at my wash basin.

"Tinniel, the Queen's dress is gorgeous! 'Tis the color of sherry, but it glitters with gold. It is fairly full too, and I was fortunate to see her and the King dance. She's so graceful and beautiful and she glows like starlight. How I wish you could see her!" I smiled to her on her way back to the hall. I wished so too. 

Once dessert (of honey cakes and fresh fruit) was served, I took off my apron. I and about five others were to sleep now to be up in time to bake bread and prepare for tomorrow. All the others would be cleaning up for the rest of the night. I bid everyone good night and followed everyone else out the back door. 

We all lived in servants' quarters on the level below the palace. Every palace servant and some of the healers' apprentices and page boys were housed there. Our room was not overly small, but we could only fit two beds and one dresser. The rest was fairly bare. 

Tuluben had a charcoal sketch of the rest of her family: her mother, father, and two brothers. They live in the country, where her father is a blacksmith, and her mother is a weaver. Since my parents live in the city, I have no need for a keepsake. Next to a bottle of ink and quill lay my book on top of the dresser. Once a month or so I asked the maid that regularly dusts the library, Coneth, to slip me a book to read. This time, I had just started a history of Arnor, of which I only knew a little. 

I was exhausted. Stripping down to my undergarments, I settled into bed. I must get up two hours before sunrise, I reminded myself before drifting off into sleep. 

I dreamed about lords and ladies dancing in the brightest colored gowns. A lyre and two fiddles were playing a lovely waltz, slow and steady. I was dancing in the middle, in a rich, red dress facing Bellassion-- 

"Tinniel, dear, 'tis time for you to wake." I slowly opened my eyes. My roommate was already turned around and stripping. 

"Alright. My thanks," I muttered groggily. "When did you get here?" 

"We finished cleaning two hours ago, but I had some socks and petticoats to mend. I waited until I had to wake you." 

I smiled. Tuluben was a kind person. "Sleep well, then. Shall I see you at dinner?" 

"Aye. I'll come as soon as I wake." She fell asleep while I was donning my dress. I tied my hair back in a simple pony tail and left for the kitchens. 

The sun had not risen yet, and neither had most of Minas Tirith. Little noise greeted me when I stepped outside. It can be eerie at times, especially when the entire city used to wait for an attack or news of an assault, but peace made the morning much more enjoyable. I breathed in a lungful of fresh air and went off to start my day. 

In the kitchen I opened the spice cabinet. On the top shelf lay a book of Cook's recipes, the kitchen ledger, a few sheets of parchment, two quills, and a bottle of ink. I left the recipes and a quill where they lay and set the rest on the nearest table, right next to a note from Cook. It read: 

_Tinniel - 1/2 pound butter, 2 pound beef, 4 pound mutton, 1 jug milk, 10 pound flour, 2 pound vegetable._

Normally, Cook would come down to the market with me, but right now she was sleeping after such a long night. I checked the ledger. Last week, flour was ten gold castar a pound. Perhaps I could work it down to eight or so castar. Haggling was half the fun of this job. 

Before heading down to the first level, I grabbed the list, the last page of the ledger, and my quill and ink. Buying goods for the kitchens was different than buying goods for oneself. Once the merchant and I (or Cook) agree on a price, I put the amounts down on my ledger page. Once I'm done shopping, I go back up to the kitchens and a page boy takes the paper to the treasury. The merchants bring the items up to the kitchen and stop by the treasury to be paid. Later in the day, the page is brought back to me, and I tie it back into the ledger, which is only bound by four cords. 

The market place was quiet, as it often was so early in the day. Carts and stalls were nestled between chuncks of stone that had yet to be cleared away. I passed the open gate and stared out across the field. The memories of the battle were still fresh to me and the soil. Grass was stained with a mix of the black blood of the orcs and the red blood of men. I shook my head to clear away dark thoughts and continued to the miller's stand. 

"Good morning to you, Iamben." 

"Well met Tinniel. How was the feast last night?" 

"Delectable. Of course, I only got to sample the soup and bread," I lowered my voice. "I may have slipped a honey cake, but say not a word of that." We both laughed at that. 

"What do you need today?" 

"10 pounds of flour for the week for, shall we say, 25 tharni?" 

He grinned. "You always drive a hard bargain Miss Tinniel! But I must insist on 40." 

"Well I must insist on 25." We made eye contact. I held my gaze for a few seconds. Cook, depending on her mood, either simply bought the goods or bargained for half an hour. I tried not to be as hard as she. 

"35," Iamben countered. "It is no easy thing to bring the flour here from the mill." 

"30, then." 

The miller fiddled with his tunic. "I must say 35."

I let out a breath. "Alright. 33 it is then." I moved to place my ink bottle down. 

"Ah-ah," Iamben stopped me. "35." 

I put on an innocent face. "Could you agree to 33? 'Tis going to the King and Queen after all." 

Iamben wavered. I stared him down. 

"Alright," he let out. 

I grinned and wrote it down in my ledger: _May, 2 3019 flour 10 pounds; 33 tharni Iamben son of Iambion, Miller._  
The rest of the shopping went smoothly, with much haggling and laughter. 

It was mid-morning when I arrived back at the kithens. Walking up to the back door by the well, I usually heard the hustle of cooking and occasional shout from Cook. This morning it was almost quiet. 

I opened the door and saw the reason; Borel had started the first of her soon to be many renditions of the prior night's events. A group of bakers gathered round in front of her, as she was sitting on top of the back table. They stood and listened intently, and I joined them. For all her bragging and loquasiousness, Borel was a fine storyteller. 

"...For a time I stood and listened to Lord Legolas converse with their Majesties in that fluid tongue of theirs. Now, you have heard but a few words of the Elvish tounge in the past, spoken by the Lords Denethor and Faramir. But those were spoken by men, great though they be, but men still. Nay, Sindarin words sound much more soft and fluid from an Eldar. And they are as calm and graceful as a gentle night's breeze. When Lord Legolas took a waltz with Lady Arwen, it was the most breathtaking scene to behold. Their dance seemed as one, long, fluid motion, only stopping with a bow and curtsy each. The perian were quite different from the Eldar..." 

Although I was put out in missing most of Borel's description of the elves, I stayed to hear her go on about the halflings. That is, until Cook waved us back to our duties.I sent the page boy, Carandir, along with the transactions from the morning. 

Having broken my fast and done some chores, midmorning came. The rest of the day was mine to use as I would. My normal night shift starts right after dusk, so I decided to nap for the afternoon. In the meantime, I could check in on my parents. It had been a week since we last conversed.

I went to my mother first in the Halls of Healing. When I entered the halls from the servants' entrance, I was met with a flurry of movement. There were healers and herbalists and runners and apprentices calling for eachother and things. The patient wards were a few rooms away, but occasionally a moan of pain or shout from there cut through the chatter here. 

I pulled a healer over that I recognized from my days as an apprentice. "Excuse me, but can you tell me which ward my mother is in? Glaeweth?" 

She spared a glance towards me. "Glaeweth? Last I saw she was in Patient Ward 3. Tinniel, if you're going that way, take a stack of linens too." 

"Alright," I replied and stopped at a linen closet on my way. I was relieved to learn mother was not in the middle of an emergency. One reason I quit being an healer's apprentice was on account of the stress and responsibility. I couldn't handle holding someone's life in my hand. But Ward 3 was for the recovering, not new arrivals or intensive care. I could change bandages. 

Upon my arrival, my mother exclaimed (quietly, as half the room yet slept) “Tinniel! Oh, and the linens too. Perfect!” She took then from my arms and placed them on a counter before redoing her bun of dirty blonde hair. “You can help me with changing the bandages. Tell me all about the feast, dear." 

I smiled and narrated as we went about our business, beginning with our first preparations for dinner all the way to Borel’s morning stories. My mother asked a few questions and made comments here and there, but mostly listened. I got my more talkative trait from my father. 

The healing itself went well. My mother had taught me basics since my childhood, and I was not so long removed from my training as an apprentice. By the end of my stories, we had discharged two men, who, although not completely healed, were well enough to go back to the barracks. Bed space was a commodity.

“What did you do last night, mother?” 

She smiled. “Oh, your father and I had a quiet enough night." She thought for a moment. "Ah! Amdirvilui has found her husband. He returned two nights ago from camp." My heart filled with warmth. Amdirvilui was a herbalist and a close friend of my mother's. And after gazing at Pellenor Field this morning, I longed for cheerful news. 

We tidied the bandages and made some talk with the patients that were awake before moving to the hallway. "Mother, is Father in the barracks this morning?" 

She shook her head. "Nay. He is overseeing a group of soldiers that have begun to clear rubble. I know not which level he is on." 

I shrugged. "'Tis alright. I have an hour or so until I sup. I shall look for him." A few more words and two kisses on the cheek and we parted ways. 

I ambled down two levels, admiring the view of the city and the land. The Black Lands no longer towered over us as an ominous shadow. They were mostly flat and covered in new lava-rock from the Dark Lord's mountain. I had heard tell the King was organizing men to begin the cleaning of the land. But the soldiers and the city were to be situated first. 

The throngs of people below me bustled with daily business. They, as well as I (I suppose), continued their life around the devestation of the battles. Large chuncks of stone needed to be cleared and walls repaired. 

Among the soldiers and men moving the stone and the crowd, I heard my father directing a group. "Move lads! Three more before the afternoon is out," he bellowed at his men. 

I rounded the corner to the sound of pick axes and hammers. My father, a tall, plain, brown-eyed, brown-haired man, was a drill sergeant and trained new warriors. As of late he has been directing groups of men in removing fallen stone. 

First, they break up the stone and load it on carts, some horse drawn, some hand pulled. The good news is that it is all downhill to the city gates. However, if the piece has remained smooth and unbroken, it will be kept whole for other use. Of course, then the men must haul it to the storehouse. 

"Father!" I called. He turned and waved with a hammer in his hand, a walking stick in the other. Ten years ago, my father was stabbed in the leg on an orc raid and has been a drill sargeant ever since. I placed a light kiss on his cheek. "How goes your morning?" 

"Ahhh, the usual work. Chippin', loadin', haulin'." He smiled down at me. "I do have someone particular in my work group today." 

I surveyed the work group and nearly gasped when I spotted him. Bellassion had (Valar be blessed!) his back to me and did not see my blush. "Father!" 

"My dear, we're nearly done with this block. You'll have time to speak together while we load the carts." He winked and I blushed again. "When I was courting your mother-" I sighed inwardly and gave him a long look. I had heard this before. "-I was a soldier, just as Bellassion here is. The first time we went out together was for a night outside in the garden of the Houses of Healing. She told me that night she would want me to be plain with her as she with me. Which means..." 

"...that I must express my feelings. Aye, we have been over this. But-" I cut off in frustration. "-he must still be the one to start courting. We seem to be beating around the bush." 

My father gave me a look. "Seargent Sovan," a soldier called, and my father left me. 

A minute later and Bellassion was indeed free to converse. I approached shyly. He ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair. "Good morning, Bellassion," I smiled. 

He smiled back. "And you, Tinniel." 

"Did you enjoy any of the festivities this night past?" 

"I had a few drinks in the barracks. I may have done a few jigs." We giggled softly. 

"I had some lovely food from the feast," I shared. "And I heard many a story about other celebrations. Perhaps we could find time to swap stories later." I looked up at his face expectantly, and he averted his eyes, blushing rather deeply. 

"Perhaps." 

I fidgeted. "'Tis a sunny day to be working so hard out of doors," I commented. 

"Yes, and I suppose it will only be hotter after noon."

I produced a hankerchief, thinking about how sweaty he must be and intending to offer it. The words never quite came out. "Would you--for the sweat--?" Bellassion took the fabric from my hand. 

Finally, I looked him in the eye. Their color matched the sky. He quickly mopped his brow and went red again, most certainly not on account of the heat. "My thanks." 

The carts were prepared to make the journey down to the first level. "I must be off," he said. 

I nodded. "And I as well. Until another time, Master Bellassion." 

"Miss Tinniel," he said, giving a curt dip of his head. I watched the group leave. Oh Bellassion, I thought. What am I to do with you? 

Back in the kitchens, I supped. My roommate slid onto the bench next to me. "Tuluben," I greeted her. Remnants of the past night's feasts sat before me, and Tuluben reached out to serve herself. I swatted her hand away. "My food." 

She gave me a sour look, but put her hand on her lap anyway. "How was your morn? See anyone special?" She insinuated with a playful smile. 

I nearly gagged in shock. "Tuluben! How in Arda did you hear?" 

She clicked her tongue. "Ah-ah-ah. I never give sources. But did he have anything special to say?" 

I considered for a moment telling nothing, but no--I have always had a soft spot for gossip, even if I was never in the center like Tuluben. "He blushed ever so much. I hinted at spending more time together and he turned red as a beet! I wasn't much better, though." 

Tuluben laughed. "I just wish he'd start something. We've known one another for three years. It's about time." I finished in a huff. 

She offered a sympathetic smile. "He will come to his senses. He just needs a small push..." 

I continue eating and let the silence last. What would the perfect outing with him be? Supper in the grass of the garden. A fragrant orange from the market, salted fish from the river, fresh bread from the kitchens, a cool breeze, but a warn sun on our backs. He would look at me and call me sweet names, and we would talk for hours as gay as birds. He would tuck flowers into my braids. I would tell him stories from the books I've read. We would laugh and smile, neither feeling discomfort... 

Cook called for Tuluben. She squeezed my shoulder in goodbye, with her long brown hair swishing in her wake. I decided to finish quickly and go to bed. Perhaps I could finish inventory quickly this night and begin my new (somewhat illicit) book.


	2. A Mid-Night Snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry and Pippin are hungry and take Frodo and Sam along with them to the kitchens.  
> Arwen has to see what all the fuss is about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading and enjoy. I'd love to hear any comments or questions you have. 
> 
> Also, while I try to write in an "older," more formal style, there will be no (or very little) use of thee, thy, thou, or any extraneous 'th's because I'm not entirely sure of how to use them properly. 
> 
> ~Lily

I rose at around eight in the evening. I stretched and groped for the matchbox on the dresser. In the dim candle light I donned a dress. Tuluben was not in bed, despite how late she went to sleep the night prior. It was likely she was at one party or another. Shoes on, hair in a quick braid, I grabbed my book and headed to the kitchens. 

The staff was nearly done cleaning up from dinner. I grabbed the plate of left-overs they had set out for me and moved to my usual nook by the fire. I sat quietly and watched the other servants work. My table had a view of the entire kitchen. If front of me were our four fireplaces, where most cooking happened. In front of them, rows of counters and drawers underneath that held utensils. The dinner staff had finished scrubbing them and the plates and were going outside to dump their water-basins. The wall opposite the fires stored most of the cookware on shelves and in cabinets. Right next to me was the door outside to the well and two ovens. Along my wall were two more tables and accompanying benches and chairs. The wall opposite me had hanging cookware utensils and aprons and hot-mitts hung, and the door there led to a palace corridor. And of course, the pantry lay to my left. 

My food was gone, but I let my plate lie; sometimes I make tea for myself over the course of the night, and clean all my dishes towards the end of my shift. The other servants bid goodnight and left. Now that I was all alone, I started taking stock. The pantry was twice the size of my bedroom, in addition to the root cellar below. Wooden shelves lined the walls until they met cabinets half the way down. There were a few hooks in the ceiling to hang dried meat from. Only one cow thigh was as such now. A small step ladder sat at the far side of them room. I scooted it over to my starting point and began, one hand holding a candle, the other lightly touching the items as I counted. "One, two, three, four loaves of bread," I whispered and repeated twice. Paper was somewhat expensive, so committing the inventory to memory was much more economical and also swifter. "...Six, seven, eight..." 

Finishing that, I moved on to the root cellar. The stairs down were directly across the from the pantry. There were potatoes and onions and radishes and apples (covered in linen) and carrots and turnips and pears stacked in layers, each food to its own shelving. I took a quick survey of each. There was no need of an exact count for the moment, as growing season was mid-way. Soon small harvests would be coming in to the market. Along the way I also checked for any rot. None today. 

Back upstairs I sat down in front of the fire and read a few chapters. The lore was very intriguing, but a handful of larger words and older Westron were making the book tough. The occasional phrase in Sindarin did not help matters. I sighed and threw a log on the fire. Perhaps a new braid would do me good. I often passed the hours creating new braids or festive ways to do my hair. I moved back to my table for this and produced a few pins from my pocket and my hair. With loose hair, I began at the crown and worked my way backwards. Over, over, twist, under. Over, over, twist, under... I was nearly finished when the kitchen door creaked open. 

Before I could pose any sort of question, a voice whispered, "Mer, do'ya think there is any honey cake left?" 

"I think," a different voice responded. "That you ate it all last night!" 

I looked for a source, but spotted no one. Strange. I quickly knotted off my braid with a leather band. There was a soft bang and a soft 'Ow!' 

"Pip!" A third, more exasperated voice whispered, closer than before. 

"Hello?" I called. "May I help you?" 

To my surprise, two halflings skidded into view from in between the rows of counters. "Hullo miss! Would you happen to still have any honeycake left from the feast?" The younger looking one inquired. I stared for a moment. Now, everyone in the kitchens knew of the halflings' huge appetite. They asked for food quite often. I had also seen them at the coronation from the back of the crowd. The only one I truely saw was the Ring-Bearer, but of course everyone in the city knew their names. "Or perhaps something else that might sate a hungry hobbit's stomach?" 

I dipped a small curtsy. "I'm afraid the honey cake has gone, master halflings, but the pantry is right here-," I gestured. "-if you would like to look yourselves..." Two more hobbits had appeared. Immediately recognizing them, I curtsied. "Masters, how may I help you?" 

The first two had already gone into the pantry. The Ring-Bearer smiled. "We're alright. We just came along to make sure Pippin and Merry didn't get into any mischief." The other (Samwise, I believe) huffed. "I don' understand why they can't be normal hobbits an' wait 'til breakfast, 'stead of wakin' us up for a midnight snack." 

Master Frodo laughed. "May I ask your name?" 

"Tinniel daughter of Sovan," I replied with a little curtsy. 

"You may call me Frodo, and this is Sam. The one who spoke to you is Pippin, and the other is Merry." 

At the sound of their names, they reappeared with a loaf of bread and two apples. "This should do it," Merry said. "It's just a snack after all." Pippin plopped down on the other end of the bench from where my book and candle lay. Merry surreptitiously kicked him in the shins and he stood up again. "Miss Tinniel," Merry said. "May we join you?" 

I could not school my expression enough to hide my surprise. Why should they like to stay with me? "Of course, sirs." 

Frodo and Sam sat in the two chairs and Merry and Pippin joined me on the bench, digging into their snack. "Tinniel," Pippin said around a bite. "Do you sit here all night?" 

"Aye. I take stock of the food, then watch the fire all night. In the morning, before most wake, the cook and I buy from the merchants what food is needed based on my count. Twice a month or so I scrub the floor," 

"But you're all alone!" The hobbit cried. "We must stop by more often and keep you company." Merry nodded with him. 

"And I should enjoy it." I fiddled with my book cover. 

"Do you have family here in the city?" Frodo asked politely. 

"Yes, my mother is a healer here, and my father is a drill sergeant." 

"No siblings?" Pippin asked with wide eyes. 

"Nay." 

"Unbelievable! We hobbits have more family than you can count stars. I have three sisters. Sam here has five siblings. These two lucky ducks have just themselves and an abundance of cousins. Why, just between the three of us-" he pointed at Merry and Frodo "-we're related at least three different ways. Mer is my first cousin; Frodo is my second cousin once removed; and Frodo and Mer are first cousins once removed. It gets especially tedious when one's birthday comes round and one must figure which relations won't be offended at receiving the same present..."

After I expressed confusion at their birthday customs, Pippin moved on to explain how hobbits give gifts on their birthday, instead of how men receive them. Very odd, but interesting. 

Frodo, staring blankly out the window took a small, sharp breath. Merry beside me shivered and Sam blinked twice. I glanced out the window. The moon had been covered by a dark cloud; a few moments later it moved along and we all breathed again. "Mer, do you feel the chill in here?" 

The hobbit in question forced a grin. "Only for a moment there, dear Frodo." He reached across the table and took Frodo's four-fingered hand. "But it's gone now. We're amongst our friends now, who'll cheer us up at the slap of a foot." Frodo's eyes focused on Merry and a faint smile appeared on his lips. 

I coughed. "Perhaps I should make tea?" 

Sam pushed his chair out and stood. "I'll help you." I tried to get him to sit. "I don' mind," he replied. "I like to be useful." I pointed him to the far wall, where the tea leaves and herbs and kettle would be. 

I went outside and quickly drew half a bucket of water. Something told me that the tea would be more appreciated coming sooner, rather than in a larger quantity. Sam was ready with the kettle and I poured the water in swiftly.

The hobbits at the table had moved on to a light topic. "What shall we do tomorrow, Frodo?" Asked Pippin. "I fancy a walk around the market. There's loads of new things to look at. Maybe we'll find a trinket to take back home." 

Soon enough the tea was ready to be poured. Sam distributed it with just enough for four mugs. Frodo looked down at the mug in front of him and over at me. I had elected to take no tea and leave it all to the hobbits. "Tinniel, did you want some tea? I don't really need mine." 

My heart warmed at the kindness, but my mouth hesitated, unsure of what to answer. The tea was for him, after all. 

Thankfully, Sam responded in my stead. "Don' be silly now, Mister Frodo. We made the tea for you. Tinniel can make a whole pot just for herself if she likes." 

I smiled and nodded, fidgeting again, only this time pulling my braid over my shoulder. Frodo's face changed to one of curiosity. "Tinniel, do you like to braid? The one you have is beautiful and rather intricate." 

"Aye, I pass the time making new braids. I oft have a new one every day." 

"That's splendid. On our journey," (I tensed in excitement at the words) "I was forever asking Legolas and Gimli about their braids. Theirs hold so many different meanings!" 

I laughed a little. "Perhaps you can teach me about it all. Did you learn to do any?" 

His face dropped a bit. "Only one. Legolas' warrior plait. Our minds were on other matters." 

"But," Merry butted in. "We have all the time in the world now. I'm sure they'd be glad to teach you, Frodo, if you just mention it at breakfast." 

The tea and all the mid-night snacks had gone, leaving only crumbs, four mugs, and two apple cores. "We'd better get some sleep if we wan' to go wand'rin' round the market," Sam said. "Many thanks for the tea, Tinniel." 

"Anytime, sirs," I replied, rising with the rest of them. "Have a good night." 

"And you, Tinniel," they chorused. I smiled and curtsied, and they left with Pippin mumbling about already missing the warm fire.

Of course, I told Tuluben everything the next day.

***

Two days after my exciting and rather pleasant mid-night encounter with the halflings, I sat in my usual seat contemplating the past two days and plaiting my hair. Not one hour after I had told Tuluben everything from the night prior, then I was hearing about it in the servants' quarters. 'Twas an exciting thing for servants to be visited by lords, especially the Ring-Bearer himself! Many wondered and hoped the halflings would come for a mid-day snack this time. 

Others asked me questions about them: Had they come to visit in their nightgowns? (No) Did they eat three loaves of bread each? (How is that even possible?) Do they have an accent? (Not really...) Most of these queries, I could only smile to. 

Borel, however, mentioned not a word about the whole affair. I believe she was envious. No matter. While I was not one to brag, I was enjoying the limelight Borel had enjoyed not two days earlier. 

Suddenly, two knocks came from the large, kitchen door. "Yes?" I called, standing and abandoning my hair for the moment. The knock implied it wasn't any servant, so I ran to the door. I was half-way to there when it swung open. 

I choked in shock, pausing in my steps for the slightest moment. In another second I was at the door, giving my deepest curtsy. "Your Majesty," I said, my throat going dry. 

"You may rise," she said. Her voice was smooth and clear, like water pouring down a stream. I straightened and looked her in the eye for a moment--her face was unmarred perfection--before glancing down from her powerful gaze to admire her dress. It was a simpler one, clearly an elvish robe, with some embroidery around the collar and the sleeves. What made it fit for a queen was the fabric; I could tell it was not made by mortal hands, and when she began to walk past me, I saw the fabric moved effortlessly with her, but was still sturdy. 

"You must be Tinniel," she continued.

I followed her to my table replying, "Yes, Majesty."

"Mm. The hobbits told me much about their visit two nights ago." She sat in a chair and gestured for me to sit on the bench. I did so. 

"Yes, Majesty. Masters Merry and Pippin sought a mid-night snack and the four halflings decided to stay awhile. We had a lovely time." 

She inclined her head. "So I heard." She looked into my eyes this time and saw through into my soul. I glanced away again, and the feeling abated. "Shall we have some tea?" 

I jumped to my feet. "Of course, my lady. Which kind would you like?" 

"Mint, if you please." 

I hastened to draw water and set the kettle to boil. I returned to the table with two tea cups, a sashe of mint leaves, and a strainer. We waited another minute in tense silence before I poured our steaming hot tea. 

"Tinniel, tell me about yourself." 

I hesitated. What could the queen possibly want with me? "Well, um, Majesty, I've aged nineteen years. I've worked in the kitchens for two years. My mother is Glaeweth, a healer, and my father is Sovan, a drill sergeant. I..." The queen was staring again; I covered my rambling with a sip of tea. The mint burned in my mouth. 

"Did you not wish to follow your mother into healing?" I blushed at that. "I did indeed, Majesty, but my mind was ill-suited for the more...grave tasks."

"I see. My father is a great healer, and he too wished to teach me his art. I had no love of it, though, and turned to other skills." I nodded and took another sip. 

"You must wonder why I am here," she stated, setting her empty cup and saucer down. "More tea?" She asked, already pouring her own. I started, for that was my duty, but set my own cup down at her insistence. The queen filled it saying, "I come on behalf of the halflings, who wish to keep you company again, and myself, as I may find my way here again in my night-wanderings. The stories you shared of their visit has spread throughout the city in the form of many rumours and much gossip. I would like to make clear that should I, my husband, or any guest or resident of the palace choose to pass time with you, that you must give privacy and tell none of what is said. Understood?" 

I nodded, flushed and positively mortified. "I understand perfectly, your Majesty." I stared down into my tea cup. 

A soft hand reached out to pull my chin up. "'Tis alright, child. Everyone must learn. Now," she said smiling. Her lips were full and red, and her teeth were perfect. "Frodo tells me you like to braid..."

We talked for a while, as she taught me a common elvish braid for ladies on one section of her hair. I mirrored her as we spoke. "What do you enjoy, Tinniel?" 

"Many things, my lady. Braiding, of course. Every Harvest Fest I can be found doing half the servants' hair! But also dancing. I have ever loved to gaze at the stars and moon; 'tis partly why I love my shift so. I have a head for numbers, but I do not fool around with them as inventors and cleverer men do. Lastly I-well," I faltered and blushed again. "In the past I have borrowed books from the palace library. With your permission, majesty, I would like to continue."

"Of course you may! Perhaps that is a topic to discuss with the King. Do you believe the people would make use and enjoy the library, if it were open to them? In my homeland the library was open to all." 

"Oh, well...you see, my lady, I should think few in this great city know well enough their letters to make much use of the library." The Queen was taken aback, but offered no reply. I continued, "I myself learned my letters from my mother and in my time as an apprentice. This past year I have had more time to read and have improved myself. Alas, this past book I borrowed I may be compelled to leave unfinished. I simply have not the vocabulary." 

"I believe the library will be a project for later years," the queen mused.

"What do you enjoy, Majesty?" 

"I enjoy dancing and star-gazing as well--every elf does. Under, child...that's right. Singing, too, is a great pass-time. I have woven many things: tapestry, cloth, rope, some laced with enchantment, others not so. I spend--spent, I suppose--time in the gardens of Imladris harvesting herbs for the Healing Halls. While I did not become a healer, I enjoy preparing and sorting the herbs." 

"'Tis a most important task." 

"Indeed...Tinniel is a beautiful name. You know its meaning?" 

"My mother tells me 'Daughter of the stars', my lady." The braids were done, and we tied them off simultaneously. 

"It is true. Perhaps that is why you love the stars so. Among my people I am known as Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar." 

"Then--if I may be so bold, majesty--it seems we have much in common." 

She laughed; it was a perfect sound. "It seems we do. 'Tis a compelling reason to return." She rose, and I quickly followed. "I shall bid you goodnight, dear Tinniel. I must return to Aragorn." 

I curtsied deeply. "Goodnight, your majesty. I am always at your service and that of the palace. No word shall I breathe of this night." She dipper her head in courtesy and showed herself out. 

I sat back down on the bench with shaky legs. The Queen...was in my company for nearly an hour...and wishes to return?! I laughed in shock. Was I that entertaining? Imagine I a friend to royalty! Now, Tinniel, you must keep her friendship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Arwen being a mother hen to the Hobbits headcannon. :)


	3. The Soup!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Yes it's been two months. I'm sorry! Testing is pretty much over now, so I have time to post. I promise though, I kept writing!  
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments and for sticking with me!\  
> (something happened with the italics a little way in. sorry!)  
> -Lily

Some days later I was jostled awake by Tuluben. "Wake, Tinniel, wake," she said urgently, already tossing a dress at me as I opened my eyes. 

"What is it?! What has happened?" I dressed as fast as possible. 

"The King..." She replied dramatically. "...was nearly poisoned!" 

I gasped. Who would do such a thing? King Elessar was loved by all in the city. It was twilight, making this time for the evening meal. "But he is alright?" 

"Aye, he did not eat the tainted food. He--I shall start from the beginning. I was in the kitchen with the other servants, making ready the soup." We began hurrying to the kitchens. "All the bowls were filled and on trays, but Elennúumen had gotten something spilled on her frock. In the commotion of getting another server, the soup lay there a minute. I went into the pantry and when I returned, the soup was gone. 

"As the attending servants tell it, a new face brought one of the trays of soup in. He served the King first, then the Queen, then Lord Faramir before His Majesty ordered him to stop. He froze in place as the King brought the bowl to his nose. 'This soup has been poisoned,' he declared for his court to hear, rising to his feet. He called the guards to seize the server and told Lord Faramir to take that man down to the kitchens and investigate. And so he did."

"Surely they must have had many questions for you Tuluben, for it was you who made the soup." 

"Indeed, I was first, but I made clear my ignorance of the matter and Cook vouched for me." 

"And the man--none knew him?" 

"Aye, as I said, a new face." 

We arrived at the back door. Talking could be heard. I opened the door slowly, and Tuluben crept into the opening with me quickly following behind her. There were six or so servants still cooking. They must have been deemed loyal and allowed to continue serving--for those that still wanted food. 

Two servants were sitting while Lord Faramir was questioning them. "You were coming from the dining hall back to the kitchens when you crossed paths with the man?" Lord Faramir was saying. 

"Yes, my lord, I was just exiting the hall as he entered. The odd thing was is he turned in from the wrong side." 

"You mean to say he came from another hall and not the kitchens?" 

"It seems so, sir." 

We each dipped a curtsy as we passed the group. Cook was standing off to the side. "Cook," I said. "I can begin my shift now and help with dinner." 

She blinked, coming back from her thoughts. "Help? Alright, though half the court decided to go to bed hungry rather than take my assurances that the food is safe!" She huffed. "If they're so worried they should make the food themselves!" The comment did not go unnoticed by Lord Faramir, who smirked for but a moment. "The King and Queen and the hobbits have stayed, with few others. His Majesty would not force any to stay, although he made clear he trusted the Lord Faramir to handle everything." 

"Come," Tuluben said. "We can plate any seconds." We helped all through dinner, but heard little more. Lord Faramir had left a few minutes after our arrival and no news came in. 

I stayed for my regular shift. Alone, I thought out loud as I worked. "Who was that man? The way Tuluben described him he was Gondorian. But...why..." I paused to concentrate on the numbers. 

"...if the king were to die, then the queen would rule. Who would gain from that? Perhaps he would hope to marry her and become king himself or to open the way for another. Lady Arwen would do no such thing." I stopped counting the jars of pickled vegetables. "Then I must go one step further. If the queen were to die, then the line of the kings would be lost and Lord Faramir would rule..." 

The realization hit me. There were people out there--Gondorians in Minas Tirith--who did not believe in the King: perhaps because of a question of legitimacy or simply the thought of having a king after so long without one. Whatever the reason, they would see him dethroned. 

Late into my shift, an hour or two before the bakers arrived, a note arrived, no larger than my palm. It was fine stationary and bore the royal seal. I took it nervously from the guard. "My thanks," I murmurmed. 

Sitting down in my nook, I broke it open and was greeted with the most beautiful cursive. _Tinniel: I trust you have heard what transpired today. I would be most grateful if you could keep your eyes and ears open to any information or rumours. I shall see you soon. Arwen <\i>_

I gulped and read it over again, before I noticed the guard still stood there. "Was...was her majesty expecting a reply?" 

"She did not say." 

"I see..." To reply or not to reply? Considering the options did not take long. A reply is polite, even if she was not expecting one, and even if I by chance do disturb her. I swiftly grabbed a piece of parchment and ripped the paper cleanly in half. 

I replied: _Your Majesty, I am indeed aware of what transpired and am ready to help in any way I am able. My ears are open. Your servant, Tinniel <\i><\i>_

__

__

_I folded the paper into quarters, leaving a little space between the two edges on the second fold. I dripped a little wax over the first edge to create a crude seal. It was not strictly necessary, but it conforted me to know any curious eyes would not peek. I addressed the front: _My Queen_ and handed it to the guard. "Please give the queen my reply staightaway." _

He gave a curt bow of his head and left. I sank down into a chair and waited for the bakers to arrive. 

_***_

On my morning rounds there was new a hum of gossip. All the vendors were chatting with one another and the few customers they had so early. I lingered at Iamben's stand. "You have heard about last night?" I asked him, once our usual haggling was over. 

He leaned in, interested. "Of course I have! The cobbler told to me that an Easterner charged right up from the servant's enteance and lept at King Elessar with a knife! The King disarmed him before he could even cry out and knocked him cold to the ground. But that tale was from the cobbler's wife's sister-daughter, who works as a servant and can be as fantastical as her mother at times. Tinniel, were you in the kitchens at the time?" 

"Nay; I yet slept. But my roommate was and she woke me as soon as she could. I did see Lord Faramir, who was questioning all the servants. I believe it was poison in the soup, Master Iamben and...," I hesitated. Should I bring Iamben into my confidence? I have known him much of my life, having always bought his bread through my childhood, and he has ears in the taverns around the city. "...the man was Gondorian, not Eastern." 

A look of shock came to his face, but then he shook his head. "I am shocked, but not surprised. I have heard rumblings in the taverns down on the second level of those dissatisfied that Lord Faramir did not become king." 

I nodded. "I would be grateful if you kept that to yourself, Iamben, and that you tell me of anything you hear. My father could see something is done if you hear of any aggressive movements." 

The baker nodded and smiled. "Of course Tinniel. I love King Elessar and do not want to see him hurt." 

I was just about to bid him good day when a thought crossed my mind, "Is by any chance the cobbler's wife's sister-daughter named Borel...?" 

"I believe so. Why?" 

"Oh, it's simply that I know her..." Cook was shouting for me down the street, so I hastily said good bye. 

I spent the rest of my day gauging what was common knowldge: all knew that there had been an attempt on the King's life and that he had foiled it. Some stories were more fantastical than others. That an Easterling was to blame was believed by nearly half the people I talked to. The other half that knew he was of Gondor gave some thready information: his kind oft meet at the Tenacious Tree for mead and a moan. They've been sitting around for years saying that Lord Denethor should ascend to the throne, but none so aggressive to commit such an act. 

All this, I told the Queen late in the evening. She considered the information for a moment. 

"I appreciate your thoroughness, Tinniel. I am glad to have confirmed the group at the Tenacious Tree, where the traitor, as it were, was found to frequent. It is odd, though, that these radicals would plan such an overt and daring act, when you say they were peaceful, if disgruntled. Someone must have urged this course of action..." 

The Queen rose. "If there is nothing else, I shall depart. There is much to do this night." 

"Of course, Majesty. Good night," I replied with a formal curtsy. She smiled and strode out the door. 


	4. Storytime to Sleeptime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gives good advice and the hobbits sleep in an interesting spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola! I hope you enjoy. This one's a cute one ;) Leave comments and kudos if you like.
> 
> ~ Lily

One evening soon after, the hobbits came in before I had even begun my count. "Master Halflings!" I greeted them surprised. "Have you need of something?" 

"Just some conversation, Tinniel!" Pippin chirped. 

"Well, I am more than happy to supply," I promptly replied, even though I had no news. "I was just about to take stock, but I can sit with you for an hour or two." 

"We wouldn't want to keep you from your duties," Frodo said. 

"Nonsense. I have all night to do my duties; a delay will do no harm." I sat down in my seat and the hobbits crowded around me. "What have you been up to as of late?" 

"We have gone down to the market twice now," Pippin piped up. "And I've seen so many exotic fruits! They're nothing like what we have in the Shire." 

I smiled. "How so?" 

"They're juicier and brighter," Merry replied. "Which one did you try, Pip?" 

"A mango." 

"Aye, that one I liked the best." 

"Mangos are marvelous," I put in. "But the pineapples are my favorite. Did you try that?" 

Sam scowled. "That one right burned my tongue." 

"Then it wasn't quite ripe enough. I enjoy the acid, but given time pineapples can ripen to sweetness," I replied. Sam harrumphed. 

"I quite enjoyed the artisans," Frodo said. "We have our own, of course, and the dwarves sold toys and jewelry every few years to us, but these were different. They carried a different sentiment. I bought a wood carving of a swan for Lady Arwen, as a wedding present, and a wooden acorn for myself. It reminds me of the Party Tree, a great, big oak in the middle of Hobbiton, where Bilbo had his eleventieth birthday." 

I commented on how nice it was to be reminded of one's home. "Did any one else buy a carving?" 

Sam shifted in his seat. "Sam did," Pippin tattled. "He bought a carving of a rose." 

"How lovely! Was there a reason for a rose?" 

Sam blushed. "As a matter o' fact, I bought it for someone special back home." 

"Her name is Rosie," Merry put in. "And Sam has been sweet on her for years." 

"But never quite got around to doing something about it," Frodo finished.

"Ah, I understand." I hesitated a moment before expanding. "I'm sweet one someone too." 

The hobbits all grinned wildly. "What's his name?" Frodo asked. They all leaned in close. 

I laughed. "He is called Bellassion son of Luinon and he is a guardsman. We've known one another for a few years now, and I've grown quite fond of him." 

"And he's fond of you?" 

"Yes! And yet he has said nothing." 

Frodo looked at Sam, who blushed once more. "It sounds like someone we know..." Pippin egged on. 

"It-she's so pretty and I don' wanta be a fool--" Sam stammered. 

"If she likes you as much as you like her," I said. "Then no matter how foolish a thing you say, she will simply move past it and love you the more." 

Sam smiled. "Thank you, Tinniel. I reckon Rosie'll just drag me off to dance even if I don' say anything. She's not one to wait." 

I smiled too, but Sam's comment made me think. "Then perhaps I needn't either." The hobbits encouraged me to make the first move, and I came to agree with them. What sort of first move was the question, but the hobbits were out of ideas at the moment, and seeing as they were all bachelors, could offer only so much personal experience. 

The conversation moved on. An hour later, I commented on how I should start the stock, as my duties tonight also included scrubbing all the counters and tables. But none of them were ready to be off to bed yet. 

"That's alright. We can chat as you work," Pippin continued. "Sam here wanted to get a look at how you Big Folk organize your larder anyways." 

Sam blushed but didn't deny it. "I help Mister Frodo with his larder," he mumbled as an explanation. "An' I keep it best I can." 

I smiled. "I'd be glad to show you how 'tis done here." Sam followed me into the pantry, while the other hobbits promised to entertain themselves with a pot of tea. 

"It's fairly simple," I started. "On this wall are cured meats, and and underneath our sacks of flour, sugar, and beans. This entire wall of shelves and cabinets has all pickled and jarred things. This smaller wall here has left-overs from meals, mostly loaves of bread or dessert cake, and ingredients not so much used, for instance honey. This cabinet holds our lard, yeast, and wheels of cheese. Then there is the root cellar and wine cellar, which is not somewhere I go regularly. 'Tis next to the root cellar, and a wine steward attends to it, not I. Most else is bought fresh daily." 

Sam nodded appreciatively and asked a few questions as I started my count. I answered them all as well I could, but conversation soon fell silent. 

"Sam, what do your larders look like?" 

He shuffled his feet. "Really much the same, I suppose, 'xcept ours is hobbit-sized o' course. I did most o' the shoppin' for Mister Frodo, and I picked all the vegetables from the garden." 

"Fresh vegetables are most wonderful," I said. "You've a larder of your own to keep stocked?" 

He shook his head. "My ol' Gaffer minds ours. But I s'pose I shall if I marry Rosie." 

"And I suppose I shall if I marry Bellasion. But first we must begin courting!" I sighed. "Sam," I suddenly decided to ask. "What sort of gesture d'you think Bellassion would...notice--spur him on?" 

"Oh, Miss Tinniel, I don' think I'm the person you should be goin' an' askin'. I don' know him." 

"Then, what sort of thing could Rosie do to get you to talk to her or take her out or--or...anything really?" 

Sam looked puzzled for a moment and thought. I abandoned my counting and sat in front of him, for he was sitting on the stepping stool. "Rosie'd take me to dance and talk 'bout how she wants to make a blueberry pie and that I would need t' take her pickin'." 

I thought about how hopeless I was at being forward with Bellassion. "Dear Sam, I'm afraid I get too tounge-tied for that." 

The hobbit smiled. "I get like that too 'round her. But I reckon one of yous got to say somethin' an' it may as well be you." 

I nodded. "I shall." 

Getting up, I noticed silence. "Sam," I whispered, motioning him to follow me to the doorway. We looked out and saw all three hobbits dozing. Merry and Pippin were leaning into each other on the bench, and Frodo was in a chair with his head down on the table. "Must have gotten tired of waiting for us." I joked. "What shall we do?" 

"I'd hate t' wake any of 'em," Sam replied. "But it'd be mighty uncomfortable to sleep here all night. It'd feel just like we were on the road again!" 

He hummed for a moment. "We could carry 'em back to bed, if that's alright with you, Miss Tinniel." 

A hand fluttered to my face in shock. "Would you not think the situation...awkward?" 

Sam's face scrunched up in confusion. "No. Strider's carried us plenty of places and Boromir did too. We're used to it," he said matter-of-factly. "You lift Merry and Pippin and I can carry Mister Frodo." 

We moved to do so when Frodo stirred. "Mister Frodo," Sam whispered. "It's time to go back to bed now." 

"Alright Sam," he replied, matching in volume. "Mer and Pip are...sleeping still." 

"Tinniel was about to carry 'em back to our room." Frodo agreed with the plan and helped me set Pippin on my back and Merry in my arms.

The way to the royal wing was fairly long and we kept silent the whole way. The one or two guards we passed did not comment. The doors to the wing were carved deeply and skillfully in wood. I could not see much in the dark, nor reach out and touch it, but I admired it all the same. We entered and I buzzed with excitement. The royal wing! In the dim light I could make out little of the art and carvings, but I marveled still. 

As I whispered to Frodo that Pippin was slipping, the Queen, thankfully, met us in the hallway. "Elbereth! Tinniel, you have a few sleeping hobbits there, I see." 

"Yes, Majesty. They dozed off whilst visiting me in the kitchens." 

"We decided not to wake them," Frodo said. 

"Are you going back to your room?" He nodded. "Then I shall help you, Tinniel." She stepped over and gracefully took Pippin from my back at my meek request. "Come," she said. 

The hobbits' room was thrice the size of my own, with four child-sized beds on the longer wall. The fireplace, now cold, was opposite the beds and had cushions and two plush chairs positioned around it. There were also two bookshelves and four dressers. I spotted the rose carving on one, and the acorn on another. Soon all four hobbits were safely in bed and the two awake had bid us good night. I parted ways with the Queen with a bow and returned to the kitchens to finish up for the night.


	5. Tinniel Takes Sam's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The annual servants' featival is at the end of the week. Who will decide to come?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this lead-up. The next chapter will be a big one!   
> Leave comments or kudos if you like. They are much appreciated.   
> <3 Lily

While still keeping to my promise to the Queen, I described the royal wing to Tuluben the next afternoon, vaguely citing bringing a midnight snack to the hobbits. 

"It must have been magnificent!" She said in awe. "I shall see it some time soon; there is always a need for a girl to change the linens." She gulped down the rest of her ale. "Would you like to go down to the market? I hear new merchants and goods come from Dol Amroth." 

Having just woken, I was delighted to be about. "Yes, of course. Iamben mentioned it this morning." 

We reported to Cook, who let Tuluben come with me an hour early. There was a new bustle down on the first level. I was eager, but Tuluben was taking her time. She greeted everyone we passed, fed some passerby pidgeons, and even stopped to pick a ladybug off the wall.

"Come, Tuluben," I urged her. "We are losing time before my shift." She sighed, but skipped all the way to the marketplace with me. 

There were throngs of people. Trade between Dol Amroth had slowed after the passing of the Steward's wife and had been made difficult with the increase in orcs. 

We perused the stalls. New brass buttons, weaving, necklaces of shells and pearls, blown glass lamps, and cured or dried fish! Seafood I find to be most enjoyable, with its brine and unusual texture. I would have to buy some this next morning. 

Tuluben was leading me to a fruit stand when she turned suddenly. My foot met hers and I stumbled into the man in front of us. 

"My apologies, I..." 

"Tinniel," Bellassion said. "Are-are you alright?" 

I righted myself and looked at him. "Quite. I seemed to have tripped." 

Tuluben suddenly appeared at my right. "Hello Bellassion," she greeted cheerfully. "I hope you're well." 

"I am. And you, ladies?" 

"We are," she replied for the both of us. "Tinniel and I were just seeing all the new goods from Dol Amroth. Oh! I've just remembered. Bellassion, the servants are having our annual dance this Friday. Would you like to come?" 

Bellassion floundered for a second, but finally said, "I--I couldn't intrude." 

"Nonsense. You'll be our guest. We girls shall need dance partners, you see." Tuluben said, with a silver tongue. 

I did a little persuading of my own. "We shall have a lovely time Bellassion." My conversation with the hobbits came back to me and bid me to be more foreward. "Perhaps, that is if you like, you could escort me?" I smiled innocently as I felt my cheeks get a little warm. 

Bellassion's face lit up in complete surprise, but his response was immediate. "Aye, I would enjoy that." He smiled back and made eye contact. 

I felt heat rise in my chest, and I placed a hand over my mouth suddenly bashful again.

"Dusk, then, come to the servant's quarters?" Tuluben said to break the silence. 

"Ah, yes. 'Til Friday then?" He looked at her. I looked to the ground to regain my composure. 

"'Til Friday," Tuluben echoed. 

"Good Day, Bellassion." I said after her. With another glance at me and a warm smile, he turned to head back up the city. 

I let out a huge sigh, and Tuluben faced me absolutely elated. "You asked him!" She cried out. "And I thought you needed an extra push!" 

She hugged me breifly, before evaluating my expression. I was still breathless. "It has finally happened..." I said. 

"Oh Tuluben!" I came back to my senses. "I'm going to dance with him!" We laughed with joy and continued on our way, my nerves all a jumble. 

There was just enough time for me to take supper in the Halls with my mother to spill the news. I took my bowl of white bean soup and sat across from her. 

"Mother!" I squeeled. "I have some exciting news!" 

She smiled. "Such as?" 

"You know how the servants' dance is Friday? Well, Tuluben and I were walking in the market and we met Bellassion. And Tuluben was being forward and invited him to come, so I decided to be forward too." I took a breath. "I asked him to escort me. And he said yes." 

She took one look at me and started laughing. I cracked a smile. "I bet he was so taken aback he turned beet red!" 

"Mother!" But I laughed as well. "I'll have you know," I said after a moment. "That while I did shock him, him face was clear of redness. Well," I thought back to the moment. "Almost." 

We laughed again. "I am so happy for you," my mother said. "He's a good boy." 

"I know." 

"Did you tell your father?" 

"Ah, no. I am rather afraid to meet Bellassion in the barracks. I wouldn't like to make anything awkward before the dance." 

"Mmm, I see. I shall tell him later, then. Will you wear your green dress?" 

"Aye. With a bloom or two from the garden in my braids, it will be perfect!" 

"He shan't take his eyes off of you," my mother teased. We talked for a little, but time beckoned us both to our shifts. With a kiss, we parted ways. 

Long after my duties were complete, I sat by the fire with a new book in my lap and a new braid in my hair. I tried to read, but had progressed only ten pages in the last half-hour. 

All my thoughts were on Bellassion. What did he plan to wear? It has been awhile since I last saw him out of uniform; a tunic would...well accentuate his physic, shall we say. I hope he knows dances enough to last the night! 

A creak, and the door opens. "May I help you?" I called, standing and turning round. I hastily layed my book down before offering a curtsey. "Your Majesty, my lord," I greeted the queen and her companion, Lord Legolas, whom I recognized as one of the nine walkers and from passing moments in the palace. 

They were dressed in leggings and light tunics, a stark contrast to the queen's regular attire. Lord Legolas also wore his blade at his side. 

"Good morning, Tinniel. May I introduce Lord Legolas, one of my dearest friends." He nodded in courtesy. His eyes were green, like mine own, and we locked gazes. As before with the Queen, I could not hold it and I looked to the floor. 

"Well met. The hobbits have talked often of you. They seem to enjoy your company very much. And they send their thanks for bringing them to bed last night." 

I blushed slightly. "It was my pleasure to serve them. I enjoy their company as well. How may I be of service?" 

Lord Legolas glanced at the Queen. She smiled. "Legolas and I will be riding this morning and would like to pack some breakfast. Gather some containers, please, while Legolas and I pick from the pantry." 

"Yes, Majesty." I quickly grabbed some woven containers with latchets on the lid fit for traveling. I could hear the two elves speak fluidly in their native tongue. It was almost melodic. I brought the containers in, and each took one to fill with yesterday's bread, jerky, and cakes. 

"Might there be fruit in the cellar?" Asked Legolas, pointing to the door. 

"Yes, my lord, apples and pears." 

He smiled and raced down the stairs, bringing two apples and three pears upon him return. "We shall get a bag on the way out," he assured me, as I stood uncertain of how to help. 

"Now, Tinniel," the queens said. "Faramir tells me there is the annual servants' dance on Friday." 

"Aye, majesty. Every year all the palace servants are given one day for our own pleasure, from the afternoon of one day to the afternoon of the next. It is given some time in May, and the servants always choose to hold a dance in the courtyard from supper 'til dawn." 

Lord Legolas laughed--a clear and pure sound. "It recalls memories of my own people's festivals. I should love to come by." 

I smiled, also secretly thinking of seeing Lord Legolas dance after missing out at the feast. "We would be delighted to entertain you, lord, and the hobbits too, if they are willing. Lord Faramir often comes to talk and make merry for a time." 

"We shall come with Faramir, then, and perhaps Lady Eowyn as well." He asked some brief question in elvish, and received a brief response. 

"How long has this tradition been in place?" The queen asked curiously. 

"The Lady Finduilas made it tradition many years ago, in the early days of her husband's stewardship. She meant it to lift in part the burden of war, and it has been even more enjoyed and cherished since her passing, Majesty." 

"I see," she said penseivly. "It must be very special to Faramir indeed." 

I returned her soft smile. "I believe so." 

Legolas balanced an apple on the back of his hand. "You have been attending for many years?" He asked. 

"I have been a servant for three years, but I sneaked in as a child years before." 

He smiled. "I often snuck into feasts and festivals when I shouldn't have. 'Twas too alluring." 

I smiled. "And if your Majesty would like to know the practical side?" She nodded assent. "After noon, you won't find any servants around the palace. If you require service that another cannot provide, then you will find someone in the kitchens. Supper is served an hour early, and the food brought to the feast is our own, not that of the Crown." 

She frowned. "'Tis no holiday at all if you must pay for the meal yourselves. Next year we shall budget for this alongside other festivals." 

"We would be grateful, Majesty." 

Legolas rose. "Alas, we must be going. We promised Aragorn to be back by daybreak." 

I stood with him and masked my surprise half-way. They meant to ride in the dark of night?! 

"Speak, Tinniel," the Queen bid, noticing my expression. 

"I am surprised that you mean to ride at night, Majesty, but perhaps that is the way of the elves." 

She chuckled. "Fear not. It is indeed our way and we see well in darkness." 

Lord Legolas cheefully gathered the food in his arms. "I find night to be the best time of the day. How I envy your job!" 

I blushed, not having a reply. I curtseyed to them both and bid them have a good ride. They left and I was once more left to contemplate the dance. It will be much different if half the royal household arrives! But, perhaps in a good way. 

Should I introduce Bellassion to the hobbits? Let us see if they come first...and if they do, I know they will greet me. Do I break my promise to the queen by interacting as a friend? Nay, for she meant only that I keep the nature of their comings secret. Besides, everyone knows I have met them. 

I sighed. It will be a long, long week to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: the dance!   
> And I know I added a Gigolas tag--fear not! They will make an appearance next chapter. :)


	6. A Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellassion escorts Tinniel to the servant's dance and meets all of of Tinniel's new friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know it's been a while.   
> Here's a lengthy one, all fluff just for you! 
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated.   
> Enjoy! 
> 
> ~Lily

Friday was here! Last night some of the girls stayed late with me to plan out some semblance of a cooking schedule. While everyone provided their own food, most had to come and use the palace kitchen while we also cooked the regular meals. Things became crowded quickly, so a rough allotment of time and space for the dance food was in order. 

Early morning had arrived and preparations had already started. I could smell a beautiful loaf of pumpernickle and other festive breads. 

I hurried off to the Halls of Healing to gather some flowers from the garden for hair ornaments. The garden was lusious, with many flowers ready to soak up the sun. 

I carefully stepped in between plants on my way to the back of the flower beds. I never took from the front row and always varied my choices. The missing flowers should not be noticable. I held two stems of blue bells and was plucking a long strand of baby's breath to be woven in my braid when I heard a voice cry out. 

"Tinniel!" Hailed Merry from the nearest entrance to the garden. 

"Good Morning, Master Merry!" I called back. He came out to the edge of the flower bed with Pippin not far behind. 

"I thought we weren't allowed on the flower beds," Pippin said. I put a finger to my lips and winked. 

Plucking one more baby's breath, I joined them on the grass. "I may...take a few flowers from time to time to put in my hair for festivals." 

The two of them laughed. "Your secret is safe with us, Tinniel. In fact, we used to steal whole cabbages from our neighbor! Frodo did as well, though I am told he preferred the carrots," Merry shared. 

My jaw dropped. "I can picture you two being rascals, but dear Frodo!" 

They laughed again. "That was when he was Pippin's age. He's changed since then." 

"Indeed." 

Pippin touched the flowers in my hand. "You're wearing them for the dance, then?" 

"Yes!" I replied, excited once more. "You are coming?" 

"Of course! We'll bring Legolas and Gimli and our best drinking songs along. I do hope you love to dance!" 

"Very much so." 

A sudden burst of laughter brought our attention back indoors. "Frodo must be telling a story," Merry explained. 

We stepped inside to see what was happening. I held the flowers behind my back in a lazy attempt to hide them. Leaning in the doorway, I peered down the hall. 

Benches were set against the far wall for those who needed the sun and scenary the large windows provided, but could not yet venture into the garden. Frodo and Sam stood in front of a cluster of such soldiers, most of whom were older, just finishing a boyhood tale from the Shire. 

"Good morning!" Frodo greeted me once he had turned around. He gestured for me to come over just as Merry and Pippin had done moments before. I smiled and put both hands behind my back, so as to make it look more natural. 

At the end of the bench was a face I recognized. "Mister Morroc!" I cried out. I had not seen Amdirvilui's husband, who was like an uncle to me, since last fall. 

"Tinniel!" He greeted me, rising to embrace me. I heartily hugged him back. "A new braid I see," he commented, fingering my hair. 

I smiled. "Aye, 'tis one Master Frodo has taught me." 

He shifted to turn towards the others. "Lads, this is Seargent Sovan's daughter, Tinniel." 

The older ones laughed. "Old Sovan, eh? I can see it in your face, lass," one of them said. 

"So I've been told," I retorted.

They laughed again, and Morroc turned me to face the other way for some privacy. "Your mother's told me about the dance tonight. Bellasion, eh?" 

I smiled. "Yes! It will be our first outing together. I hope he will enjoy himself." 

"With you around, I'm sure he will." The hobbits behind us were saying their goodbyes. "Tell me more later, hm? I'm sure your mother will have us for dinner soon." 

"Of course!" I said good bye to the other soldiers and followed the hobbits inside, who liked to visit recovering soldiers often to be a friendly face. "Good morning, Frodo, Sam."

"'Mornin'," Sam said. "D'you know a lot of the soldiers? If y' don' mind my askin'." 

"Don't be silly Sam," I replied. "I'll always answer your questions. And not really. I do visit my father in the barraks often, but I don't talk to many soldiers. Some may recognize me, though." 

We walked down a corridor, with me followimg them. "Speaking of soldiers," Pippin insinuated. "Will you be dancing with anyone special tonight?" 

"As it were, Master Pippin," I responded playfully. "I took Sam's advice and asked Bellasion on Tuesday to escort me." I finished with a hige grin. 

Pippin let out a cheer. "That's lovely!" Frodo said. "You must introduce us." 

"I shall! I am sure he will enjoy your company..." I trailed off, noticing my surroundings. "Frodo, where are you headed?" It seems we were close to the...

"Intensive Care," Frodo answered. I stopped walking. The hobbits did too. 

"I shall take my leave of you then. Until tonight!" I smiled and waved as I hastily found my way out of the Halls. The Intensive Care wing held a few bad memories from my time as an apprentice. 

But today was a happy day, I thought, breathing in some fresh air. I looked at the flowers in my hand, which were still intact, and turned all my thoughts to the party. 

We draw lots every year for who will prepare dinner and supper. Fortunately, I did not have to cook for the palace this year, so it was time for sleep. Then to help anyone cook for the banquet, dress, do my hair, do others' hair, wait for Bellassion! I stomach squeezed in excitement. 

***

Tuluben woke me with a drinking song. "A bit early for that, don't you think?" I quipped groggly. 

She laughed. "Not for a few of the men, I'm afraid. Ready?" She pulled my green dress from the dresser she had been rumaging around in. It was a plain fabric, but had some white ribbon around the cuffs and neck. The fabric was soft and the skirt had a few large pleats. The Baby's Breath would match perfectly. 

Tuluben wore her autumn orange dress. It was equally plain, but perfectly becoming. We discussed hair as she buttoned me up. "Wear the bluebells," I told her. "You shall seem as a tree, with your dress as autmn leaves and the blossoms as the sky." 

"What a delightful picture! Whatever you do, Tinniel, it will look amazing." As she sat on her bed, I wove the flowers into two intricate braids, one on each side of her head. It took the only the hair on the side and placed the remainder in a messy bun. I left the hair in the back free to let it whirl as she danced. However, I added a few very thin, basic braids to add texture. 

Tuluben carefully ran a hand over the work. "It's _gorgeous_." 

I giggled. "You haven't even seen it yet!" 

"Even so, I know you've done something magnificent. Come," she gestured. We switched places. 

I braided my own hair similarly, with the same two on the sides of the head with the flowers incorporated. But instead of ending in the bun, the ends of my side braids became incorporated in a new one--the elvish one the Queen had taught me--until all my hair was bound in it. 

"Shall we see if any of the girls need help? I think it's too late to help in the kitchen," Tuluben suggested. 

We popped into the corridor and helped any floundering girls get into dresses or do their hair or search for shoes. The talk was incessent. I heard all about different boys and dates, and I even threw my own stories in. There were, however, also whispers about Borel. 

"I heard she's locked the door to her room," one girl said as I did her hair. "An' won't come out 'til dark an' the bonfire's lit. Suppose she's gettin' somethin' ready." 

She had been seen carrying a bundle or two of things covered by rags into her room. I was very curious, but none (not even her roommate, who was ready herself and had been barred from the room) knew much more than that. "I suppose we'll just have to wait," I replied. 

Soon enough my attention turned towards Bellassion again. "What do you suppose he's wearing?" I asked Tuluben nervously, as we stood right outside the front door, dusk having fallen. "I didn't mention my dress color. What if it doesn't match well enough with his clothing?" 

"Don't be silly, Tinniel," Tuluben conforted me. "What could he possibly be wearing? Purple?" 

We laughed, but I still felt uneasy. "You're right...But what of the halflings? What if he doesn't like them? Or they him?" 

My friend put an arm around my shoulders. "Shh, you're just nervous. Everyone likes the halflings and we'll all have a good time of it." She perked up. "He's coming!" 

I stood straight and watched as Bellassion rounded the corner. For a moment, I couldn't breath. His knee-length tunic was a light blue with sleeves ending just before the wrist. The fabric hugged his torso perfectly with a thin rope belt at his waist. He wore grey hoes and simple leather shoes, matching my own simple sandles. 

Tuluben gripped my shoulder to ground me as I smiled dumbly. "I must gather the other girls. See you at the bonfire!" Tuluben said. She waved to Bellassion and went inside. 

"Miss Tinniel," he greeted me, offering a respectful bow. "Would you give me the honor of escorting you tonight?" 

I blushed, but returned a curtsey. "You do me the honor." I took his elbow and we walked, taking in the night sky and the night air with a wisp of smoke. 

Silence. 

Then, "You--" we both began. We both blushed in the dim moonlight. 

Bellassion kept his mouth firmly shut, so I started again. "You look very fine tonight." 

"You look very beautiful," he returned. 

"Tell me," I said. "How well can you dance?" 

"I know my way around a song or two," he replied playfully. We continued on towards the bonfire on the level above. "Did you cook anything?" He asked. 

"Nay, I hadn't time. I helped all the girls with their hair instead. And yourself?" 

He grinned with a mischivous glint in his eye. "I had time for one dish. You'll have to guess which one it is." 

I giggled. "No clues?" 

"None." 

"Hmph." I pouted for a moment, then we both laughed. "Well then, we must hurry before anyone eats it, whatever it is." 

He smiled and we strode merrily up to the courtyard. I felt most comfortable with him, just then. Neither of us were tripping over words or eachother. Perhaps because we finally stood in a clear position. This was a date and we were free to talk without fear for the other's feelings. 

Most everyone was already there, even Tuluben and the girls, who must have hurried up another way. The bonfire burned near the point of the courtyard with two tables full of yet untouched food. The tradition had been that the Lady Stwardess begin the celebration with a few words. After her passing, her lord sons took her place whenever they were home. Cook had done it last summer, when both men had been at war, for Lord Denethor refused any part in it. This year, of course, Lord Faramir was home and all awaited his arrival. 

In the mean time, I surveyed the food. Nothing stood out as something Bellassion would make. I scoured my brain for any recollection of food among our, admittedly few, conversations. None. I made a few wild guesses, which made him laugh. 

Whispers overtook the jovial conversations around us as heads turned. Mine turned as well, finding Borel gliding down the courtyard in a bright red dress. The fabric alone must have cost a half year's wages! As she strolled closer, I could see the detail of brown flowers she must have embroidered herself. 

I couldn't take my eyes from her, and from how Bellassion slacked his grip on my arm, I knew he couldn't either. A pang of jealousy swept through me. Then I realized I had nothing to fear. Borel might look attractive for one moment, but I was sure of his love towards me. 

Borel eyed young men as she passed and swirled the long dress to reveal a hint of leg and leather boots. 

"Borel," I greeted. 

"Tinniel," she replied, eyes landing briefly on Bellassion. She stopped further down the feasting table at the head of a group of young women. They fluttered around her in awe and admiration. To some extent, I was in awe too. 

Suddenly, heads turned away from Borel and cheers arose. Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn were walking from the palace with Lords Legolas and Gimli and the hobbits behind them. I smiled and clapped along with everyone. 

The Steward, also smiling, stood on an awaiting chair in front of the bonfire with the nearly set sun in back. We all gathered around. I could see Borel had manuvered her way next to the Lady Eowyn. For my part, Lord Legolas, in a fine silver tunic, came next to me. 

"Lord Legolas," I greeted him with a small dip of a curtsey. 

"Well met, Tinniel. You look lovely." I smiled. 

"Dear friends," the Steward projected. "This night is one of celebration and joy. It began with my mother as a night to be free of the burdens of war--free of all darkness. Now the war is over, the darkness defeated. For the first time, we are truely free! Let us give new purpose to this celebration. Let us celebrate freedom and light and life. Valar bless King Elessar!" 

"Valar bless King Elessar!" We all shouted. Lord Legolas, presumably (I had heard 'Valar' and 'Elessar'), shouted the same in elvish. 

The crowd laughed and cheered as Faramir signaled for the feasting to begin. I waved at Lord Legolas as Bellassion tugged me along to the food. It was always a mad dash for the food as everyone was famished. Band members were privy to food first and would start in a moment. 

With a gay laugh, Bellassion brought me front of him and placed a plate in my hands. "My dish is on this table," he said. Accepting the challenge, I took a little bit of each of the ten dishes in front of me. Hmmm... 

"Oh!" I yelped, someone knocking into my back. 

"Excuse me, Tinniel!" Merry apologized. "I got swept by the crowd. Where do you Big Folk put the ale? Oh, hullo!" Merry looked up at Bellassion. 

I glanced from one man to the other. "Master Merry, this is Belassion, my...escort." 

"Pleased to meet you, Master Halfling," Belassion said with a casual salute. He was smiling, which made me relieved. 

Merry gave me a knowing look and greeted my date. "And you, Master Bellassion. Tinniel has made mention of you and I am glad to have met. I hope to see you dancing!" He went towards the other end of the table where the other halflings were getting food. 

"You know them well?" 

"Well enough. They come at night when they are restless. Others too." I turned back towards my plate. I tasted five of the ten foods as the band began to play. None of the dishes stood out as Bellassion.

People were beginning to dance in pairs with Borel finding herself in the center with one of the most handsome servants. She was enchanting, but I noticed her expressions were the same as ones she uses for storytelling. It didn't seem her enjoyment was quite...right. I shrugged and put her out of my mind for the rest of the evening. 

After tasting the other five foods, I dragged Bellassion out to dance. He wasn't especially talented, but the dancing was still fun and casual. 

Next were a few country dances. The first one began in two, facing lines of leads and follows. I, of course, took Bellassion as my partner across from me. Looking down the lines, I saw many pleasant sights: the hobbits had joined with Merry and Frodo and Sam and Pippin as pairs; Lord Faramir was smiling across the aisle at Lady Eowyn; Lord Legolas was opposite Lord Gimli; Tuluben conversed with her date and quickly winked my way before we began. 

The music played gayly as Bellassion spun me round and round. We joined hands and moved in and out of one another, before the music bid us to move. The follows took the place of the lead diagonally left of them, and the leads did the same exchange. 

I took one step to the left with the other follows to line up with a new partner. We all clapped as the two left without a spot to take ran down the aisle and danced a moment in the middle together. They then reentered the lines in the middle and the dance continued. The dance is long, but a delightful way to meet people. 

Soon I became partnered with Lord Legolas. "My lord," I greeted. 

"Tinniel, I did not mention earlier how lovely the flowers in your hair are and--is that an elvish braid I see?" 

"Indeed! The queen taught me." Our dance was almost through. 

"You must meet Gimli. I will find you later!" With one last spin we both smiled and continued on. 

Then came Merry, who was very happy to see me again and said that we Big Folk better enjoy a good jig. After saying hello to a dozen men and a pleasant dance in the middle, I found myself partnered with Pippin. "Having a good time, Master Halfling?" 

"Splendid!" He replied. 

Further along, the Steward was partnered with me, the moment most girls look forward to every year. He always dances with us. "My lord, a pleasure to dance with you." 

"How kind of you to say." He offered no more, but was a gracious and graceful dance partner. "Enjoy the evening," he said as we parted. 

Finally, the last couple to come to the center was Borel and a lad. They finished with a flourish and everyone cheered. 

Ale was in high demand after that dance. Bellassion and I shared a tankard as I introduced him to the rest of the hobbits, as promised to Frodo. They found him well to their liking and managed to teach him a short hobbit drinking song. 

Minutes later Merry and Pippin, who were half-way drunk, went out onto the dance floor and shared the same song accompanied by a jig. A circle formed around them with much cheering. They didn't stop for anything, singing one tune after another. 

Frodo and Sam joined in for one song--seemingly a favorite amongst them. After that, Merry and Pippin taunted the elf and the dwarf, saying something about their promise in Rohan. Legolas and Gimli laughed and hopped straight in the center. 

With a quick count off, the two began a jig in perfect double time with the music. The dance was certainly faster than a man's could ever be and it was mesmerizing. Cheers erupted from all sides. 

The music changed and Bellassion and I broke off from the circle to dance together. We swayed in a lazy waltz. "Still deciding on the dish?" He teased. 

"Aye...perhaps a clue?" 

"Alright," he leaned in close and whispered in my ear. "It's about something you love." He kissed me lightly on the cheek, sending a thrill through my body. I looked into his eyes and saw love in them. I nestled my head on his chest as we swayed. Something I love... 

"Oh!" My head shot up as I realized what he meant. He smiled and chuckled; I laughed along too. "The pear in composte?" 

The tale goes that the last princess of Gondor was the fairest mortal singer of the Age, rejuvinated the fading bard guild, and led all the court in song every feast day. Her favorite fruits were pears, trees of which she maintained in her own garden. The bard guild serves pear in composte in her memory every Harvest Fest. 

Soon enough the music picked up again, and we went for more ale and cake, still stuck in a dreamy, romantic stupour. We drifted close together, my hand in his. A few swigs of ale changed the atmosphere, though. 

I pointed Bellassion's arm across the crowd at Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn saying goodnight to Lords Legolas and Gimli. "I must make good on a promise and introduce you, so long as you do not mind." 

"I do not mind, dear Tinniel." With a skip in my step, I led Bellassion by the hand, bumping into only a few people on the way. 

Lord Legolas jumped to his feet. "Dear Tinniel! Master Bellassion! May I introduce Gimli son of Gloin," he annouced with a sweep of his hand. 

"Miss Tinniel, Master Bellassion," the dwarf greeted gruffly. 

"My lords, your jig tonight was truely spectacular," I said. "Your feet were a blur!" 

Lord Gimli chuckled. "It was a challenge keeping up with this one," he gestured to Legolas. "But in th' end, I finished first." 

"That," Legolas butted in. "Would be because you missed a step." 

Gimli outright laughed at that, and I giggled along with him. "In yer dreams, laddie, where elves hold their liqour better than dwarves." 

Legolas choked on his ale, but chose to let the comment pass in favor of easing Bellassion's slight discomfort. "Tell me, Master Bellassion, you are a soldier?" 

"Aye, lord," was Bellassion's terse reply. I squeezed his hand. 

"In the thrird battalion," I supplied. 

"Gimli and I ought to visit the barracks. Perhaps for a sparring session?" 

"Aye!" Gimli agreed. "We must drag Aragorn along. The lad will need a break from all that work." 

"That would be quite exciting!" I said. "I must come to watch." 

Bellassion shifted on his feet. "Would you like to sit, Tinniel?" He asked. 

"Nay! I feel so lively, I could dance for hours." I paused. He looked weary; we had only two or three hours until dawn. "But I will sit with you." 

I made to sit, but Bellassion stopped me. "I have energy left for another song, if you so wish." 

"'Tis not what you wish." 

"If I may, Tinniel," Legolas said. "It would be a pleasure to dance with you this evening. Gimli will keep Master Bellassion company for a song or two." I accepted the compromise. "Melleth," Legolas said to Gimli, squeezing his shoulder. 

Influenced by the ale, I made bold and kissed Bellassion on the cheek. My elvish dancing partner took me by the hand, and we joined in on a wonderful swing dance. It was lively with plently of opportunities for Legolas to spin me around--and even lift me in the air! We waved at our friends on the bench before starting a waltz. 

"They seem to be getting on," Lord Legolas said, once the two of them had waved back. 

"Aye, lord. I am glad of it." He spun me, and I could feel the night air breeze by my skirt. Every movement he made was fluid with the next, and while I could not match his grace, I still felt as though I flowed as water down a stream. "'Tis a splendid night for a festival." 

"The stars shine so brightly!" He smiled and spared a glance up. "Aye, I see the constellation of Oröme above. Ah! And there is the Beorling." I hummed in agreement. The song ended with one final spin. 

"My thanks, Lord Legolas," I said with a curtsey. 

"My pleasure, Miss Tinniel. Your escort is waiting, it seems." We returned to the benches. 

"Had enough ale, Master Elf?" Lord Gimli teased. 

"Nay! It would take more than a gallon of any mortal brew to fill me! Come," the elf replied, and the two went with a hasty goodbye. 

"And how are you this fine fearival evening?" I asked Bellassion, cuddling up at his side. 

He placed a warm hand on my back. "With you here, all the better." 

We stayed on the bench for nearly an hour, watching others dance and chatting. He had liked the hobbits very much, and Gimli and Legolas well enough. But they were heros, and it would take some getting used to talking with them. 

The sky turned pink with the haze of a coming dawn. Many had left, but I loved to stay for the sunrise. The hobbits were nowhere in sight. But Tuluben had yet to go, as did Lords Legolas and Gimli, whom I spotted making love behind a feasting table. They were adorable. I dragged Bellassion out for one or two more dances. 

Too soon the sun broke the horizon. A great cheer went up from the remaining crowd. Now the worst part: cleaning. Everyone pitched in to clean the tables and courtyard, but those few washing the dishes were chosen by lot. We two cleaned for a bit, until slipping away onto one of the walkways. 

"I had the most wonderful time with you tonight," I flattered him, lightly running over the side of his tunic. "I could grow accustomed to this." 

He gave a coy smile. "Could you grow accustomed to this?" He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. It was warm and inviting. 

"Perhaps," I teased, before returning one of my own. "But, let's leave it for another time, shall we? 'Tis but our first night out." I hugged him tightly. While we had already deviated from decorum, I wasn't ready to completely abandon it. 

"Alright," he said. Arm in arm we strolled along. 

"What say you to luncheon in the garden?" I asked. 

"I say it sounds perfectly pleasant. I must check my assignments for this week." 

"Hmm. Then you shall call on me soon to make plans?" I reached up to caress his cheek.

"I suppose I shall have to." We were outside my quarters. Bellassion bent over to press a kiss to my cheek. "Until then," he bowed. "Good night, Miss Tinniel." I curtsied with a wide grin on my face. I watched him walk away, staring at his figure. He's perfect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up...a little drama.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. It's Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the servants were celebrating, another attempt was made on King Elessar's life. In the midst of the investigation, the hobbits plan a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Updated almost exactly within a month...yay! This one's a long one again; I just wanted to tie this arc up. But you'll get your dose of fluff!  
> I love hearing your thoughts. Enjoy!  
> ~ Lily

The next evening was a whirlwind. Lady Arwen swept in so silently, I did not notice until she had sat down beside me. 

She told me quickly of the last night: King Elessar had once again been targeted by an assailant taking advantage of the lack of servants. He had hidden in the Royal wing and had attempted to stab the King in the back. 

I was aghast, but the Queen assured me her husband was without a scratch. "But we must find the leader of this movement," she urged. "The first and the second attackers have not said a word. We need to get into the Tenacious Tree. The men Faramir sent were noted as soldiers and learned nothing." 

She took one of my hands in hers. It was supple and smooth with the lightest touch. "Do you know of a man that could join the crowd and gain information? Someone loyal and trustworthy." 

I was dumbfounded. The queen was touching me and...trusting me? "Of course, Majesty..." I whispered automatically, thinking of everyone I knew. "Perhaps...the miller, Iamben. I asked him earlier to keep an ear in the gossip. He is very kind and loyal to the king; I believe he would be of service." 

"Has he any experience?" 

"He's done his time as a soldier, my lady, as most men of Gondor have." There was a sad moment of silence. 

The queen forced a small smile. "Many thanks, Tinniel. Now Faramir needn't worry over this; It shall be my project." She produced parchment, quill, ink, and the royal seal. "He shall need instructions...can he read?" It came as an afterthought. 

"He knows his letters, Majesty, but use...simple words." 

"Alright, assist me, _mellon._ " I nodded and offered any needed advice. It read: 

_Dear Sir, I thank you for agreeing to this endevour. Tomorrow evening and two nights hence, please go to the Tenacious Tree and see what can be heard about the radicals and their plans. Make friends and keep them talking. We must know who is the leader and instigator. I am told it is customary to buy drinks for new acquaintances, and so give you an allowance of 10 castar. Needless to say, you must keep your purposes secret and play-act as inspired to join these traitors' cause. There will be help nearby, watching and ready to protect you if need be. Tuesday morning come one hour early to your market stall, where I shall await to hear your news and pay you 200 castar for your troubles._

_My thanks, Queen Arwen._

It was very exciting to put the wax down for the royal seal. 

In the morning, I got to the market early to reduce the chance of prying eyes. Iamben soon cam. We exchanged greetings, but he was puzzled as to why I was here so early. 

"I have a proposal," I said cautiously. "You remember that I asked for you to keep an ear out for any gossip related to the King's attack? What say you to a more...involved roll?" 

Iamben narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "I am loyal to the King and shall follow those under his authority," he replied. "Is your father askin' for me?" 

I slipped the letter out from my skirt pocket, with an quick check that we were not watched. "Nay," I answered, letting the seal explain. The miller stared at it in wonder. "The Queen sends her regards and wonders if you would like to serve the Crown for a little while." 

He bowed his head. "It would be my honor. But, Tinniel, how did--" 

"Unimportant," I interrupted. "The letter tells what you must know." He broke the seal and began to read it. "You must be careful, but I have complete faith in you. These," I took the gold out of my pocket. "Are for you." 

Iamben went still, processing the information and importance of the task. "For peace," he said at last. 

"For peace," I echoed. 

The day was full of anxiety. Supper was especially trying. The girls (and one or two boys) were asking questions about Lords Legolas and Gimli, since they had seen me sit with them for a time at the dance. I had a grand time describing how Legolas had lifted me. Borel walked past stiffly midway through, but I had not the energy to say anything more than a brief complement on her embroidered dress. 

At night not even a new braid or the hobbits' light chatter and companionship could calm me. They even made a pot of tea. There was a happy moment, though, when I asked what the Elvish word _mellon_ meant. 

"Friend," Frodo enlightened me. "Why?" 

I let out a surprised 'Oh!' and blushed. "The Queen called me that," I murmured. 

Sunday morning, Iamben was not to be found at market. I hoped he was only sleeping off the night's drink and that I had not sent him into danger. 

By afternoon, my worrying was temporarily at ease as I ate luncheon with Bellassion. We sat side-by-side on an old sheet in a corner of the healing gardens. A luncheon of bread, cheese, apples, and ale was spread out before us. 

I leaned into Bellassion and he held me tight with one arm. We talked about his work and the rebuilding and the plans for more soldiers to return from Cormallen. The conversation fell silent as we ate more. I bit into a piece of bread and was suddenly reminded of Iamben. 

Bellassion rubbed a hand on my back. "What's troubling you, dear?" 

I hesitated, remembering my first meeting with the Queen and her admonishment. "I--couldn't say." 

I laid my head in his lap and absently plucked at his tunic. He combed through my hair with his hand, but looked down at me still confused. "Tinniel..." 

I looked up at him. He was less handsome from this angle. "Bellassion...nothing's the matter." I rolled onto the sheet and tugged him down to my level in order to kiss him on the cheek. 

The rest of our time together was much like this, until the other side of the garden was too crowded for privacy and Bellassion needed to report for duty. "We'll talk soon," he promised with a kiss. 

Night passed by once more, similar to the last, but a little more subdued. At last morning came, but what to do? I wished to see Iamben as soon as I could, but the Queen had not mentioned my accompanying her. 

In an unusual moment of spontaneity, I sprang to my feet and hurried to the first level. From the second level, I spotted Iamben's stall and a cloaked figure standing with a torch. By the time I approached the stall, Iamben had arrived and was talking to the Queen. 

When I was no less than thirty feet away, she whipped around to face me. I could not see her face, but her hands were visible. 

_Stop; Go back_ , she gestured. Blushing violently, I slowly shuffled away. I felt Her Majesty's gaze linger for a moment, before it presumably landed on Iamben again. 

Halfway back on my slow shuffle to the 6th level, there came a tap on my shoulder. I turned to face the Queen, offering a small curtsy. 

"Walk with me, Tinniel." She whispered. "I know you wished to see your friend hale, but coming was foolish. Being seen by one of the radicals would place you in danger. I would not have you harmed." She spoke sternly, but only out of worry. I could only apologize and hope the Queen was not truly wrought with me. 

She forgave me and told me a little of what Iamben had learned: by the second night, he had come to know all the men and heard of their leader. I asked if another attempt was being planned. She pursed her lips and answered that they would act before another attempt was made. No more did she share, but that they all would be arrested soon.

With my duties done a few hours later, the halflings intercepted me on my way from the kitchens. "Tinniel!" An excited Pippin greeted me. "We need your help with an idea of ours." 

"And you have it, Master Halflings," I replied jovially. The few people around were clearly eaves-dropping. "But tell me as we walk." 

As most of the city yet slept, we wandered away from the prying eyes of servants. The halflings explained that the King and Queen needed a 'cheer-up meal.' In hobbit fashion, they wished to surprise them with a full hobbit breakfast in their room. They wanted my help preparing the food right after I was done at the market. 

"Legolas will stay with Lady Arwen and make sure she is in her room," Frodo explained. "Then he will come out to the hallway where we'll be waiting with the food--we shall need your help with that as well--and we'll go and surprise them both!" 

I was delighted to do something fun for my friends. "Is there a certain food you would like? I shall get it tomorrow." I asked. 

"We'll buy a few things ourselves," Pippin said. "But some of the meat should be fresh. Sam?" 

"Two large tomatoes, six slabs o' bacon an' eight links o' sausage, if you please, Tinniel," the cook requested. "It'll be a proper hobbit breakfast if I got anything to do 'bout it." 

Frodo promptly laughed at my stunned expression. "Don't worry," he said. "We plan to help finish the food. They haven't the time or the stomach to eat it all by themselves!" We all laughed and chatted for a while longer. It will be wonderful to see Sam cook! 

That afternoon I visited my mother in the Halls. I told her all about the dance over a late dinner, then swore her to secrecy to tell her of the hobbits' plans. 

"Valar knows their Majesties could use a nice gesture," she said. "The King comes to tend to the wounded nearly everyday and is--so I've heard--drawing-up plans for more soldiers to return and help rebuild Minas Tirith and clear Ithilian of filthy orcs. The Queen also comes with Lord Legolas to sing healing songs. 'Tis a wonder." 

How I yearned to here her Majesty sing! Somehow I knew it would be more beautiful and wondrous than Lord Legolas' voice. "Aye, they will enjoy it, I know." 

In the morning, I successfully procured the meat and met the hobbits back in the kitchen. Sam set to work immediately. 

Crushed herbs went in one skillet with the sausage. Another fried bacon and eggs. A third was filled with potatoes the hobbits had diced before hand. Sam flipped and stirred with abandon. A pinch of salt on the hash. A spoonful of lard for the sausage. 

I reached out to help, but Frodo herded me away. "It's best to leave him to it," he said. "Why don't you make the tea with Pip?" I did, with Sam's selection of herbs. 

Meanwhile, Frodo sliced the tomatoes and day-old bread for frying, and Merry cut a few apples and pears. The bakers looked on with mild curiosity, the task having already been explained by the halflings.  
I helped Frodo choose serving bowls and covers and plates and trays. Sam loaded the sausage in one bowl, the potato hash in another, and the pile of bacon and eggs on a dish. Finally, some slices of bread fried in the bacon fat and the tomatoes friend in the sausage fat were placed on another plate. 

Pippin carried the plates and silverware, Merry the tea tray, Sam the tray of hash, Frodo the plate of toast and tomatoes, and I the tray of meat. It was a long enough walk to the Royal Wing, but we all held our loads level. 

Lord Legolas met us just inside the doors. "They are both in their room," he whispered. "Come." 

We snuck down the corridors, past magnificent tapestries and paintings. My arms were weary, though, and nearly started to dip. Legolas perceptively relieved me of the tray, just as we stood outside the royal suite. 

Although my pride was a bit wounded, I gladly swung the door open after the hobbits had shouted "Good morning!" They all filed in and surrounded the couple with food and love and laughter. 

I was just closing the door when Lord Gimli appeared behind me. "Won't you stay, lass?" He invited me. 

"Oh no--no," I stammered, my face flushed. "I couldn't intrude, my lord. I'm not..." 

"Noble? Don't worry, lass, we like ye all the same." He looked me up and down, sensing my discomfort. "Go on then," he said kindly and entered the suite. 

The sound of laughter surged from the momentarily open door. I smiled and returned to the kitchens, thinking of Gimli's kind comment.

I sat in the kitchens, telling Tuluben of the breakfast-in-bed of a day and a half ago (fret not, the bakers had already told the story), when Caranthir the page boy burst through the doors. 

"They've arrested him!" He shouted. 

The servants were in a flurry now. "Whatever do you mean, boy?" Cook asked pointedly. 

"The man behind the attacks. And Gandalf accompanied him to the dungeons!" 

Who could it be? What did he look like? Why would a wizard be involved? Was there dark magic afoot? These questions and more filled the room. Caranthir swiveled his red head this way and that, filling in as many details as he could. Save for the stoves, the supper preparations were all forgotten. The man was old and bony, with a long face and long, white hair. His robes were a dirty white, and he walked stooped. His countenance was haggard and full of hate. 

With the story exhausted, some reluctantly returned to their duties, while a dew others decided to venture through the halls on some pretense in hopes of seeing or hearing something. Tuluben and I joined the latter group. A boy and girl went towards the quarters 'in search of some laundry;' Borel went towards the dining hall 'to set the table;' we went towards the studies 'to see if they needed dusting.' We all reckoned we'd happen to meet another who knew more. 

Tuluben and I conversed in whispers, walking along the corridors. "I don't suppose we should at least get one duster? We might--Oh!" Tuluben turned the corner and almost collided with Master Merry. "Please excuse me, Master Merry," she continued, but Merry heard none of it. 

"Nevermind that," he muttered, crossing his arms. He seemed angry and distraught. 

"Whatever's the matter, Master Merry?" I asked before he could stomp off. "Aren't you glad they found the plotter?" 

"Yes, but--it's _him_ ," he replied looking straight up at me. 

I nearly choked and whispered faintly, "You mean...Saruman?" Tuluben gasped next to me. 

"Aye! I thought he was gone--over-with, but to think he almost hurt Aragorn!" The halfling clenched his fists. 

"I thought he was defeated at Isengard," Tuluben said tentatively. 

Merry huffed. "He was--and we thought stripped of all his powers. We left him in the care of the Ents, but they let him go. I wish--I wish I had stabbed him when I had the chance!" His eyes were wild now, and neither of us knew what to say. 

"Why don't you find Frodo?" I suggested weakly. Merry nodded curtly and stalked off. I exchanged a bewildered look with Tuluben, and we raced back to the kitchens. 

We were the first to arrive back with news. Tuluben announced our discovery, but we both addressed the group that gathered 'round. "Master Merry was angry, and rightfully--" 

"I have--" Borel shouted bursting through the door. "--news." She stopped short when she saw our little circle. 

"What did you hear?" I asked. Instead of replying, she spun on her heel and went out the door she hd entered from. The rest of the servants were speechless. However, Tuluben never loses focus, and she continued the story. I was left to contemplate: what was wrong with Borel? 

That night, Merry snuck up on me while I was cleaning. "Sorry, Tinniel. Are you doing anything important?" 

"Just scouring this pot. Elennúumen burnt some soup on the bottom." I turned to find a rather downtrodden Merry. "Why don't we make tea?" 

Once properly settled with a cup of hot lavender tea, Merry spoke. "I'm awfully sorry for snapping at you earlier. I was just so--angry, I suppose." 

"'Tis alright," I said, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "He did horrible things, especially to you and Pippin and against the King. 'Tis only natural you would wish him gone." Merry said nothing. "When I was eleven, my father was gravely hurt by orcs. I cried of course, but I was angry--so angry at the orcs that had done it and the Dark Lord behind it. But there was nothing I could have done. You feel like you didn't do enough, yet you've already done so much! You and Pippin are the ones who led the Ents and brought about his fall. You did all that you could and defeated him." 

Merry put his teacup down. In the light of the fire, I could see a soft smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. "Oh Tinniel!" He cried and lept up to embrace me. We stayed like that for a minute, simply enjoying the other's warmth and love. 

When we separated, I asked how Pippin was fairing. "He's alright," the hobbit said. "He didn't see it the way I did; he hates Saruman, of course, for what he tried to do to Aragorn and everything else, but he was just glad he was caught." Merry paused. "I'm glad Pip is alright." We embraced again and finished our tea, and Merry went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Merry! And so Saruman is dealt with...whether or not this affects the upheaval in the Shire, I won't go into. I've screwed with canon enough >.<
> 
> Also, did some lovely research on a Full English Breakfast, which is basically what the hobbits made. Very cool!  
> Up next...a bit of Gigolas?


	8. A Spar?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Gimli honor their promise to visit the barracks. And Tinniel talks to Borel...finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Aragorn's coronation is May 1st and the hobbits and others leave Minas Tirith on August 22nd. I am also not meticulously counting the days. Consider this about the end of the first month.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos appreciated. 
> 
> ~ Lily

The stir over Saruman died down in the next few days. Gandalf had decided to take him to the shores from which elves sail to be judged by the Valar. For now, he would stay in the dungeon, and with his evil known, his tongue held no power. The men held under his sway formed a company and were given the most laborous construction tasks as punishment. The two would-be assassins would be imprisoned until Saurman departed. 

My mother's friend, Amdirvilui finally had me and my parents over for dinner with her husband. We talked jovially and caught up on news and gossip since Arroc had left. I was teased a great deal about Bellassion and given advice on the hearts of men. 

The men also had the most interesting piece of news. "The elf and dwarf are to come to the barracks tomorrow," my father shared. "To do a few drills and to show-off their sparring."

"Tomorrow!" I exclaimed. "When? I shall come and see." 

"Th' morning," Arroc said. "I reckon it'll be full of on-lookers." 

"And I reckon you'll be watching with Bellassion," my father needled. "That is, if I let him out of the barracks!" Once again, I blushed. 

***

I did my duties that night in quiet anticipation of the morning. Cook took an overly long time haggling with a butcher, so I arrived later than I had hoped to the barracks. 

Lords Legolas and Gimli had already begun their drills. The city guard had been volunteered by the Steward to partake in this exhibition, and they were split into two teams: one side was following Gimli, the other Legolas. It was a friendly competition, it seemed, to see whose men could learn and complete the new drill fastest. 

"Mark!" Gimli thundered, and his team hiked their knees.

"Two, Four! Two, Four!" Legolas repeated as his team alternated between stances. I watched in amusement. As a child, my fatger had taught me a few drills, and the other children and I had loved to play soldier. 

Bellassion appeared next to me. "Good morning, dear Tinniel," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. 

"Good morning, love." I continued to watch the soldiers. "The techniques are rather odd."

I felt Bellassion shrug. "Elves and dwarves are rather odd creatures." 

"I suppose, yet they each hold their own beauty." 

The crowd of soldiers and servants and civilians cheered when Legolas shouted, 'Done!' a moment before Gimli. He pretended to be outraged for a moment, but the pair quickly laughed it off. 

"Well done," Legolas addressed the soldiers. "Now for a lesson in sparring." Gimli led a quick lesson in common mistakes before the men paired off to practice. 

I idly braided my hair as I watched the lords work. They were kind to the men, correcting stances and teaching techniques. And none but I seemed to notice the flirtatious look on Gimli's face or the more-than-friendly squeeze of his shoulder by Legolas in response. 

On the other side of the area I spotted Tuluben, who had somehow connived her way out of cooking breakfast, and waved. Not twenty minutes had passed before the crowd grew restless. 

"We want to see you spar!" Someone shouted. Encouragements and agreements arose, and Bellassion and I found ourselves chanting 'Spar! Spar!' with the rest of the crowd. 

Once again, Legolas and Gimli laughed, but gave in (none too reluctantly) to the demand. The soldiers cleared the field. Weaponless, Legolas and Gimli bowed to one another and began to circle. Everyone held their breath. 

I could see something new enter their gazes--something raw, something calculating. They would, of course, not aim to truely hurt, but neither would they hold back their skill. 

Legolas struck out first, jabbing faster than possible at Gimli's left side. 'Twas not too fast for him, though, and he stepped back to avoid it. They continued to lash out, dodge, and then circle. Once, twice.

I gripped Bellassion's hand. Suddenly Gimli blocked an attack and used it to spin Legolas off balance. He immediately leapt into an aerial and returned a blow. They continued this rapid exchange for minutes, neither with any advantage; Gimli used his stature to easily dodge moves meant for taller creatures, while Legolas used acrobatics to stay out of Gimli's easy reach of his legs. 

Abruptly, Legolas pushed Gimli down just as he himself was tripped. They both landed on the ground, a hand at the other's throat. A moment of tense silence. Then, the lords and the crown burst into laughter and cheers. The fighters stood and bowed.

Amid this, a face appeared in the barrack doorway. "Have time for another, mellon-nin?" King Elessar entered, dressed in a ranger uniform with the addition of his circlet. 

The crowd parted and bowed. "Aye, Aragorn--King Elessar," Legolas, who had been addressed, amended for the sake of the audience. He dashed to the wall and picked two blunt training blades, one a long knife, one a sword. 

The King entered the center of the field, smiled at his subjects, and handed his circlet to Gimli after an elvish word and laugh with Legolas. I, along with everyone else, was astounded and awestruck. Very few in the room had seen the King's famed skill with the blade. And to chose to spend time with us when he must make preparations to leave for Cormallen was an honour felt by all. 

They began to circle as before, but not nearly as long. Legolas erupted into a flurry of movement that King Elessar matched. Parry. Thrust. Parry. A spin. This continued until they locked blades and looked the other hard in the eye. 

A stream of elvish flowed from my King's mouth. Legolas replied in the same tongue. A moment later they released and circled each other once more. Twice they repeated this, each sequence more intense than the last. 

Then, the King's blade looped quickly 'round his opponent's and disarmed him. A few men cheered prematurely, for Legolas, though without a blade, did not concede. Instead, he leapt over his friend and sent him to the ground. 

A sword tip lay on the side of the elf's neck, while a foot hovered above the man's throat. Stalemate. They held the position for an extra moment before they simultaneously stood down. Legolas swiftly helped the King up, and they exchanged a bow. 

While Lord Legolas returned the blades, Elessar addressed the crowd as kings are expected to do. "Good people, please thank Lords Legolas and Gimli for offering their time today." A cheer went up. "They have also offered to hear the needs of all soldiers within the city for the time Lord Faramir and I attend to those at Cormallen." 

Lord Gimli came to stand beside the King. "Aye, we'll be comin' 'round the barracks an' the Halls to talk with ev'ryone." The King reclaimed his circlet from Gimli and left. A small group crowded the two lords. 

"Have anything to request?" I asked Bellassion. 

"From them? Nothing. From you? Many things," he insinuated. 

I held his free hand in mine, pressing a light kiss to it. "Satisfied?" I teased.

"For the moment." He looked furtively about the room. "Let's go where we won't be disturbed."

***

As I swore to Tuluben while walking back from our room to the kitchens, I remained chaste. She scoffed and told me not to be so uptight. I wrinkled my nose. "I was brought up with a sense of decency, Tuluben." 

She snorted. "If that's what you will..." 

"It is," I said. 

We passed the ovens, still smouldering from their use at dinner, and entered the kitchens from the back. The familiar sound of one of Borel's yarns greeted us. 

"'Begone!' he snarled at a poor soldier, for he would take no food--only water. He was wretched to look upon, all ashen and aged, but held a fierce countenance for any who came near his cell. The soldier shook with fright and nearly dropped his tray of food. 

"But he recalled the words of Gandalf and knew the old, fallen, powerless, former wizard before him could do him no harm. He straightened his back, puffed his chest, and spoke, 'Silence, wicked one. You have no power over me. Now take your bread or let me feed it to the chickens where it will be put to better use.' 

"Saruman snatched the cup of water through the bars. 'Faugh!' He cried and spat at the feet of the soldier. The soldier would not be brought low by one beneath him, and so did not respond to the taunt. He simply walked away." Borel stood on the table on which she had been sitting and bowed. All who were listening clapped. 

While she returned to the ground, the audience turned to disperse. "Tinniel, Tuluben!" One girl cried. "Were you at the sparring match? Did you see the King?" What was once Borel's audience gathered 'round the two of us. 

I was slightly taken aback by the sudden attention, but, thankfully, Tuluben answered for me. Borel turned away and loudly began to put dry pots and pans away. I watched her a moment, her face a mask. I glanced at my roommate, who had begun to tell of the lords' sparring, and slipped away. 

"Borel," I whispered. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothing," she returned coldly. 

"Look, Borel," I pleaded, following her from the dry-rack to the cupboards with a pot of my own. "We have never been true friends, but I have always counted you as a kind and decent, if rather dramatic, person. But these past few days you have avoided me and been unkind." 

She let out a short laugh. "I, unkind? Perhaps. But what of you who stole my audience?" 

I paused the work to think a moment and then jogged to her side again. "Your audience? We just listened to one of your tellings!" 

She whipper around to face me. "And then what? They flocked to hear you speak." I fell silent, for what she said was true. "Ever since that night with the halflings, and even more so after the dance, everyone has come to you for news. Not I. I--I miss my place." 

We made eye contact, and I could see her hurt. "I've always enjoyed your stories," I spoke slowly and softly. "The morning after the coronation feast I stayed to hear of your adventure as a serving girl. I was a bit envious then...as you may be now." 

I realized that she had felt overshadowed. Stir over her dress at the dance was overrun by talk of my dances with Lord Legolas. Her information about Saruman was pushed aside (for a little while) in favor of my account of conversing with Merry. I was the one people wished to hear from, even more so because of my short time about during the day. 

Borel let out a huff and turned away. "Perhaps." But she didn't understand yet. 

"Borel, I--I don't mean to take this from you or to cause a stir; I am simply living. I cannot help if people chatter." 

She gripped a soup pot. "But you needn't--" She sighed. "I cannot tell you what you ought and ought not do. Let us lay the matter to rest." 

I hesitated, for I did not feel we had come to an understanding. "Alright." 

"My thanks, Tinniel," she said with a very small smile. I nodded and took my place in the pantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Aragorn! He has to have some fun once in a while. ;)  
> And the girls have worked it out...sort of.  
> Okay, some hurt/comfort next time.


End file.
